


Star-Crossed Roses

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [172]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Oaths & Vows, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Tears, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: The Host and Dr. Iplier at last get married.I cried like a bitch writing this.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache, The Host/Dr. Iplier
Series: The Ego Manor [172]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1166384
Comments: 72
Kudos: 230





	1. Chapter 1

The Host wrung his hands nervously, pacing _relentlessly_ in the back of the church. He felt like he was dying. He’d never felt so _nervous_ yet so unbelievably _excited_ in his _life_. His heart pounded in his throat, and he could feel the blood soaking into his bandages – black, like his suit, specifically to _hide_ the blood – and he was muttering _furiously_ –

There was a gently knock on the door, and the Host went stiff, arms snapping to his sides and swallowing harshly. Though, when he heard the soft ringing and amused chuckle, he relaxed marginally, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Darkiplier.”

“Host.”

The Host was too _scatterbrained_ at the moment to focus his narrations, leaving him nothing but utterly blind as he heard Dark’s footsteps come closer. He felt Dark adjust his bandages, then make a small sound. “What have you been _doing_ in here? Your bandages are soaked!”

The Host gave a strained laugh, swallowing harshly. “Um – the-the Host now understands Darkiplier’s nerves on his own wedding day.”

Dark laughed, and the Host felt him peel away his soaked bandages, dabbing at the blood on his face. “You will be _fine_ , Host. What exactly are you afraid of?”

The Host swallowed again, anxiously fidgeting with his hands again as Dark changed his bandages. “Does Darkiplier want the list?”

Dark snorted, and placed his hands on the Host’s shoulders, grounding him. “Host. Listen to me. You will be _fine_. Dr. Iplier _loves_ you more than anything. And knowing you, you’ve looked into every single future available for this day. And how many are there?”

The Host let out a little scuff. “There are an infinite amount of universes that split in off in various direction to account for every possible outcome for every possible decision every made and –”

“ _Host_.” Dark shook his shoulders lightly, snapping him out of his head. “And how many are there, exactly, where your _beautiful_ wedding goes wrong in any sort of catastrophic fashion?”

The Host’s shoulders dropped marginally as he relaxed, _just a little_. “Um…three.”

“ _Therefore_ , the probability of any three of those futures coming to pass is infinitesimal, correct?” The Host nodded shakily, slowly relaxing, and Dark’s grip on his shoulders relaxed as well. “There we go then. You will be _fine_ , Host. Now –” He took the Host’s arm, gently pulling him towards the door. “The ceremony is going to start soon. You don’t want to be late for your own wedding, do you?”

And just like that, the Host was tensing back up, voice cracking terribly as he spat out, “Oh _fuck!_ ”

Dark laughed again, more _giggling_ than anything. “Just calm down, Host. Everything’ll be okay! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The Host could bleed demonically from his empty eye sockets in the middle of a _church_ during his homosexual wedding?”

Dark burst into laughter, and the Host managed a laugh of his own, quiet and nervous as it was. “Even if that _does_ happen, it won’t be the end of the world. Come, Dr. Iplier’s waiting for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Host fought every urge to begin wringing his hands anew as he stood alone at the altar. His hands kept twitching with the urge to fiddle with _something_ , and since he had been _vehemently denied_ permission to wear his coat by pretty much _everyone_ and his suit jacket sleeves were too short to do much with, the Host had resorted to just locking his fingers together and grinding the heels of his hands together in front of him, arms stiff by his sides, elbows locked. He was so _nervous_. He could _hear_ every whisper echo in the cavernous hall of the church, his heart was _pounding_ in his ears, he was _deafening_ himself, and –

He felt Dark – standing behind the Host as his best man – ghost his aura over his shoulder, reminding the Host to _relax_ , and the music started.

A lump immediately caught in the Host’s throat as he heard the church door open, and his head whipped in that direction. He forced his Sight – narrations were _certainly_ not going to cut it, not today, not for – and every tensed muscle in his body relaxed, even as his stomach twisted up in almost unbearable knots of nerves and anxiety, and the biggest smile he had split across his face.

Dr. Iplier immediately blushed, though he was grinning, too, dressed in a _beautiful_ white suit with a pale, almost baby blue dress shirt, a white tie to match. He carried no bouquet, but instead a single, thornless white rose, and the Host couldn’t help the tears that immediately sprang to his eyes, to the point where one of his hands actually flew up to cover his mouth. Wilford was the one walking him down the aisle, elbow linked with Dr. Iplier’s, and the Host watched as he shot Dark a beaming little smile, tears in his own eyes. And then Dr. Iplier was standing in front of him, Dr. Schneeplestein just behind as Dr. Iplier’s best man (who was already crying as well), and the Host’s heart just _melted_ , despite his nerves crawling into his throat.

Dr. Iplier smiled at him softly, as Wilford took his seat in the pews, egos on one side, Septics on the other. “Hi.” He carefully tucked the rose into the breast pocket of the Host’s suit, hands lingering on his chest. “You okay?”

“Fine!” The Host’s voice cracked _terribly_ behind his hand, apparently a running theme for the event, and he immediately flushed bright red as Dr. Iplier chuckled softly and soft laughter rippled through the crowd. Dr. Iplier gently pried his hand from his mouth, taking both of them in his own and squeezing lightly. The Host drew a deep breath, swallowing thickly, and tried to calm himself. He was forced to drop his Sight, so he didn’t _bleed_ everywhere, but even still…he caught the tears beginning to shine in Dr. Iplier’s eyes.

The pastor that had taken them on a tour of the church when they’d first visited cleared his throat (startling the Host a bit), and began speaking. The Host couldn’t help the resurgence of his nerves, even as his bright smile never faded, and Dr. Iplier squeezed his hands again. “Friends, we have joined here today to share with the Host and Dr. Iplier an important moment in their lives. Their time together, they have seen their love and understanding of each other grow and blossom and now they have decided to live out the rest of their lives as one.”

The Host couldn’t help it. He burst into tears, a _far_ too loud for his tastes _sob_ pulling from his throat, and he pressed his forehead desperately to Dr. Iplier’s. As his tears soaked into his bandages, so did the blood, till it began seeping through in mess streaks across his cheeks. The pastor stuttered in his words a bit, staring blatantly for a moment as Dr. Iplier tried to calm the Host down with gentle words and his soft smile, despite the tears running down his own face. Eventually the pastor found his words, but the Host _truly_ wasn’t paying attention, clinging to Dr. Iplier, and _God_ he was so _overwhelmed_ by _so many_ emotions –

“And now, the couple may read their vows.”

The Host’s breath hitched in his throat, and he couldn’t help the _panic_ that swamped over him. The second the pastor said those words – every semblance of the Host’s ability to formulate words in sentences in any sort of cohesive manner _failed_ , and he swallowed, lifting his forehead from Dr. Iplier’s. He felt Dr. Iplier cup his cheek, though noticeably mindful of the blood, and the Host could _feel_ his warm smile. “Do you want me to go first?”

The Host nodded, leaning in Dr. Iplier’s touch, and he drew a deep breath. “I –” Dr. Iplier let out a small laugh, squeezing the Host’s hand, and the Host couldn’t help but feel _relieved_ when Dr. Iplier’s own nerves were betrayed. “I love you _so much_ , Host. Sometimes, I think, a-about how _different_ my life would be if I never followed the Author to his cabin, if I never took him – _you_ – home. How different my life would be without you in it. And – in _none_ of the lives I come up with am I happy.”

The Host’s Sight flashed, of its own accord, this time, and Dr. Iplier shot him a big, watery smile. “I need you. As much as you need me, I need _you_ , you help balance me out, you – you just – _fit_ , and – oh _fuck_ –” The Host snorted, and Dr. Iplier laughed. “And it’s times like these where I _really_ with I had your words.”

The Host smiled, reaching up to gently cup Dr. Iplier’s cheek in turn. “If Dr. Iplier had the Host’s words, then they wouldn’t be Dr. Iplier’s. And Dr. Iplier’s words are _just_ as beautiful as the Host’s.” Dr. Iplier’s face _rapidly_ warmed beneath his hand, and the Host drew a deep, _deep_ breath, trying to steady his nerves. As he did, the vows he’d practiced for so long, flew out of his mind, and he tried not to let the panic show on his face. “The Host – doesn’t have the luxury of imagining what life might have been like if Dr. Iplier hadn’t become apart of his. The Host knows he wouldn’t _have_ a life to imagine. Dr. Iplier saved the Host, _has_ saved the Host, so many times, and the Host can’t help but feel that he is so _lucky_ , to have someone as patient, and kind, and _stubborn_ , and _strong_ , and _insistent_ in his life. He can’t help but feel that – that – he can’t –”

Tears flowed _heavily_ down the Host’s face as he pressed his forehead to Dr. Iplier’s once more, leaning desperately into his touch on his cheek, _trying_ to collect himself. He opened his mouth, but no sound, no breath came out. He _wanted_ to say it, he _wanted_ to say ‘I love you’ so _badly_ , but he _couldn’t_ , his voice wouldn’t _let him_ , and he choked a bit, on his sobs, tears, words. “Love –” He swallowed, a small, strangled noise escaping him. “– is a white rose. Pure, and pristine, and simple, at a glance. Then, as one gently peels back the petals, they can see every layer, each petal a single moment that built upon that love, and as the petals grow closer together, no one can see where the love truly began.” He smiled, his thumb caressing lightly across Dr. Iplier’s cheek. “The Host loves Dr. Iplier. More than his words could ever describe.”

It was a silent, for a moment, in the wake of the Host’s speech, before there was a soft intake of breath, and the pastor was speaker, voice softer than before. “Dr. Iplier, do you take the Host for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

Dr. Iplier drew a shaky breath. “I do.”

“And do you, Host, take Dr. Iplier for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

The Host nodded. “The Host does.”

“The rings, then, please.”

They each pulled a ring out of their pockets – the Host, Dr. Iplier’s, and Dr. Iplier, the Host’s. The Host had made them both, absolutely _perfect_. Dr. Iplier’s was a simple, silver band, with little sapphires and diamonds set into the band. And the Host’s was gold, with rubies and orange topazes, except the gems on his were set in a bit of an _odd_ pattern. Odd, to someone who didn’t read Braille, didn’t know that the dots and lines of gems spelled out ‘I love you’. Neither were extravagant, and neither wanted anything too complicated. They were _perfect_ for them. The Host made never been prouder of his work.

The Host fidgeted nervously with Dr. Iplier’s ring, his cheek feeling cold without Dr. Iplier’s hand there, and his attention snapped back to the pastor when he spoke again. “Dr. Iplier, please repeat after me. ‘I, Dr. Iplier, give you, Host, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you.’”

“I, Dr. Iplier, give you, Host, this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you.” He obediently repeated the line, taking the Host’s hand, and he slipped the ring onto his finger, kissing his hand before letting go. They’d both moved their promise rings to their right hand before the ceremony, in preparation, and the Host felt _so many things_ he couldn’t name as his _wedding ring_ was fitted around his finger.

The Host took Dr. Iplier’s hand in turn before the pastor could speak, stumbling through the lines that sounded a bit clunky with his way of speech, and he flushed with both embarrassment and just – _happiness_. “The Host gives Dr. Iplier this ring as an eternal symbol of his love and commitment to him.” The wedding ring slotted perfectly against the engagement ring Dr. Iplier still wore, and the Host tried not to choke.

He could hear the smile in the pastor’s voice, and it was _infectious_ , allowing the Host’s watery grin to appear once more. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

They wasted no time in surging forward, and the Host couldn’t help the desperate noise he made into the kiss, wrapping his arms tight around Dr. Iplier, tears and blood pouring down his face, and distantly he was aware he was probably getting blood on Dr. Iplier’s white suit, and that their family and Septics were cheering in the background, but he didn’t _care_ , all he cared about was the man in front of him, with his lips on his own, till neither could breathe and they had to break apart.

The Host held to Dr. Iplier’s hand as his – his _husband_ was congratulated by Dr. Schneeplestein. _Husband_. Dr. Iplier was his _husband_. And the _biggest_ grin split his face, unable to leave even as he was startled by Dark laying a hand on his shoulder. “You alright now?”

The Host nodded, absolutely _beaming_. “The Host is perfectly fine, _more_ than fine, he –” He couldn’t help himself as he turned to press a quick to Dr. Iplier’s cheek, startling a sound out of him, and he laughed lightly. “The Host is the happiest he has _ever_ been.”

Dark chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. “Good. Now come on, we have to get home. I’ll be damned before I let that cake CJ made go to waste.”

“Did someone mention food?”

Jackie lifted his head sharply from where he was chatting with Silver, and Silver’s expression dropped flat, smacking Jackie’s shoulder. “ _Jackie! How_ are you hungry, you were eating _as you walked in here!_ ”

Jackie flashed a scandalized look. “ _Silver!_ You should know me by now! I’m _always_ hungry!”

Chase rolled his eyes fondly nearby, talking with Bing, and pointedly glancing at Google with a broad grin. Bing said nothing, just flushed _bright_ golden-orange, and spun on his heel, _away_ from Chase. “So! Home it is? Right? Yes? Please? So I can get out of this suit and get Chase to _shut up?_ ” He glared over his shoulder, and Chase just snickered.

Dark laughed again, leaving the Host’s side to tear open a _big_ entrance to the Void. “Yes yes, come on, I’ll take everyone to the manor. Single file – Wil –”

“On it!” Wilford shot Dark a salute before getting into position to take up the rear.

The Host couldn’t help but laugh, humming softly as he bumped shoulders with Dr. Iplier, following Dark through the Void. “So…how does the Host’s new _husband_ feel?”

“Oh _God_ , don’t you even start you _bastard_ –” Dr. Iplier bumped against the Host a little harder, sending his laughing _husband_ staggering a foot or so away. “I – I have never felt like – _this_. And – you?”

The Host hummed again, kissing Dr. Iplier’s cheek. “The Host would like nothing more than to get _out_ of this suit, crawl into bed, and sleep for a century to recharge his fried nerves.”

Dr. Iplier snorted, nudging the Host. “That’s what the honeymoon is for, my dear.” He squeezed the Host’s hand. “I don’t think it needs much saying, but…I _love_ you, Host. So Goddamn much.”

The Host smiled. “The Host loves Dr. Iplier, too.” His face abruptly lit up, and he called over his shoulder. “Did Bim make any of his cinnamon cookies?!”

“Of course I did!”

Already, Dr. Iplier was laughing, even before the Host gasped.

“ _Hell_ yeah!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMYGODFINALLYILOVETHISBOYS  
> :D :D :D  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this wedding! I certainly did, despite the little bit of grief it gave me (of my own making, but still), but...in case you didn't see it, I posted something last night, and I need you to read it, if you haven't already.
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


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